


What a Wonderful World

by need_more_meta



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: But He Gets Better, Emotionally Constipated Hux, Established Relationship, Fluff, Holiday Meal, Life Day (Star Wars), M/M, Soft Kylux, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, but not really, fireplace, it’s a soft Kylux Christmas fic okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29243622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/need_more_meta/pseuds/need_more_meta
Summary: Ren takes Hux on a leave to a planet where celebrations never end.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52
Collections: Kylux Advent Calendar 2020





	What a Wonderful World

**Author's Note:**

> So, I accidentally wrote a Christmas fic in February. Enjoy.
> 
> For Kylux Advent 2020, late as it may be.
> 
> Betaed by the fantastic [Hark_bananas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hark_bananas/pseuds/Hark_bananas). <3

“What in the love of stars is this?” Hux asks, staring at the offending object laid out on his bed like a present.

“It’s a sweater,” Ren supplies helpfully.

“I know what it is, Ren!”

“Then why are you asking?”

“I meant…” Hux waves his hands in exasperation. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“See, it’s supposed to go over your head and onto your body...”

“I don’t need instructions for a karking sweater!” Hux finds himself on the verge of hurling the thing at Ren. It’s not his fault Ren is being so difficult. It’s Ren’s _choice,_ and he should suffer for it.

Ren must sense that Hux is unironically irritated by the obnoxious garment, since he schools the amusement out of his face and puts up his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s a present,” he says carefully, almost shyly.

“I can see that,” Hux huffs, still feeling more angry than anything else. He rubs his forehead, trying to calm down. It’s just another one of Ren’s ridiculous antics. He can handle it. He’s an expert on handling it. With a sigh, he drags his eyes off the sweater and looks at Ren. “I just can’t fathom why I would even need civilian clothes.”

“Because you’re going on leave,” Ren replies readily.

Hux barely suppresses a growl. He’s never taken leave and Ren _knows_ that. Ren might have some leeway with his mystical nonsense, but Hux has the First Order to run and he can’t allow himself any downtime.

“Yes, you can.” Ren answers Hux’s thoughts in that vexing way of his that Hux can’t complain enough about. “You’re going on leave, with me, and that’s not up for discussion. I’ve already made all the arrangements.”

“Like what?” Hux scoffs, back to simmering. Ren is barely capable of making himself breakfast, let alone arranging for the absence of the Order’s most valuable asset.

“All the upcoming meetings that require your presence have been postponed,” Ren starts to explain, sounding almost proud of himself. “Captain Peavey will take over on the bridge. And Phasma will feed Millicent.”

It doesn’t actually sound like an awful plan. Hux trusts Peavey, as much as he can trust anybody in this organization, and Ren has even thought about Millie. Maybe the First Order could survive a couple of days without its General.

“But could the General survive a couple of days without his Order?” Ren asks, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Stop reading my thoughts,” Hux snaps, batting a hand at Ren. “And yes, of course I can, I—” He cuts himself off, realizing he has fallen straight into Ren’s not particularly elaborate trap.

“So we’re going on leave then?” Ren doesn’t bother hiding his smile, which is radiant and does things to Hux’s heart that he will never admit aloud.

“Okay, Ren,” he sighs, defeated. “We’re going on leave.”

He turns back to the sweater still lying innocuously on his bed. It’s a garish green with a ludicrous red-nosed tauntaun grinning cheerfully right in the middle, framed on the top and bottom with a trim of First Order hexagons.

Hux is definitely _not_ wearing this.

“Where are you taking me?” he asks Ren as he watches him punch the coordinates into the navsystem of his personal shuttle.

“It’s a surprise,” Ren replies, infuriatingly enigmatic, as always.

“I hate surprises.”

“You hate everything.”

“I hate surprises in particular.”

Ren just chuckles. “You’ll like this one.”

Hux isn’t convinced, but there isn’t much he can do. He’s already agreed to partake in whatever Ren has prepared for him. He can only hope it will be worth leaving his command for two days.

A lot can happen in two days.

Hux summons up all his willpower and tries not to think about that.

The flight takes just a couple of hours through hyperspace, and when they emerge, they’re approaching a smallish blue-white planet that Hux doesn’t recognize. He has been growing progressively more fidgety as they moved further from the _Finalizer_ , cursing himself for going along with Ren’s lunacy once again. Ren, on the contrary, seems to fill up with mirth as he guides the shuttle to the landing pad, which doesn’t help Hux’s mood in the slightest.

“Welcome to Exmis,” Ren says, opening the shuttle hatch for Hux. It’s already dark outside.

Hux steps onto the unfamiliar planet and hates it immediately.

For starters, it’s covered with snow, which doesn’t add it any points in Hux’s rating. He much prefers the solidity of duracrete under his boots. Secondly, it’s freezing, to the point that Hux finds himself thinking about the hideous sweater with something akin to longing. At least the thing looked warm.

“I hate it,” he tells Ren promptly, lest Ren harbor any illusions as to Hux’s enjoyment of their little adventure.

Ren just smirks and takes Hux’s hand, tugging him forward.

“Let go of me!” Hux demands, keenly unwilling to be seen in public holding Ren’s hand, regardless of whether Ren Force-manipulates the public’s attention away from them or not.

“Nope,” Ren replies cheerfully as he leads Hux away from the parking lot and into the city.

The city further sours Hux’s already displeased mood. It’s not just bustling with activity and glowing with lights, it’s downright _festive_ , and it almost jars Hux out of his skin. The streets are decorated with strings of colorful lights, people are running around wearing wampa suits and sweaters not unlike the one Hux was presented with just that day, and shop windows boast Kowakian monkey-lizards in ridiculous tiny red bow-ties.

“Ren,” Hux calls, a suspicion forming in his mind. “Why does this look so terribly like it’s Life Day? You know the First Order doesn’t celebrate it, right?”

“It’s called Galaxy Day, here,” Ren says, voice light with joy.

“It’s the middle of summer,” Hux points out, feeling a headache press behind his eyes.

“It’s always Galaxy Day on Exmis.” If anything, Ren manages to sound even more gleeful with every sentence.

A speeder bike rushes past them, and Hux squints at it. It’s equipped with bells that jingle happily as it swooshes through the air and has a cargo space in the back stuffed with brightly colored present boxes.

“That was a Sleigh I speeder,” Hux says in disbelief. “They are _banned_.”

“Nothing is banned on Exmis. It’s a neutral territory.” Ren is radiating merriness, and Hux wants to strangle him. “Come on, wait till you see our hotel,” Ren says, winking at Hux.

Hux yanks his hand out of Ren’s grasp, needing at least this small victory. Ren looks hurt for a moment, but then the amused smile is back on his face.

“Follow me,” he beckons, as if Hux could possibly have any other choice.

 _This man will be the death of me_ , Hux thinks not for the first time, nor, he presumes, for the last.

The hotel is a grand golden-white establishment, called pretentiously _The Galaxy_. It’s almost big enough to warrant the name, and Hux lets himself be a little impressed.

As Ren mind-tricks the receptionist into giving them the hotel’s finest suite, Hux looks around the lobby. There’s an enormous wroshyr tree standing right in the middle, festooned with tinsel and red and green baubles. Under the tree is a pile of gigantic boxes with huge, sparkling bows. Colorful stalactite lights descend from the cream-white ceiling. Everything looks covered in glitter, and Hux is afraid he’ll go blind if he stares at it for any longer.

“My lord.” Ren appears at Hux’s side, crooking his elbow for Hux. Hux ignores the invitation but turns to follow Ren toward their room.

They’ve got a magnificent suite on the top floor with a pretty stunning view of the city’s skyline. There are three moons visible in the sky, one full red moon and two yellowish ones on the waning side. It’s beautiful, a little bit.

The suite consists of a spacious sitting area with a dining table, a fireplace with a soft-looking couch opposite, and a giant wampa-skin rug between them. One of the walls is entirely composed of floor-to-ceiling windows, flooding the room with moonlight. There’s a door leading further into the suite, to what Hux assumes must be a bedroom. Another door opens onto an excessively lavish refresher, complete with a bath large enough for three people.

Hux finds himself torn between gagging at the needless opulence and enjoying the dazzling finery.

“Wait here,” Ren tells him, disappearing into the bedroom with the bag he insisted on bringing with him.

When he emerges a few moments later, he’s exchanged his robes for a deep blue sweater with a snowman design on it. The snowman is wielding a red lightsaber, its shape the unmistakable cross of Ren’s own.

Wait a minute.

“Did you order them custom-made?” Hux asks, incredulous, pointing at the sweater. It’s hard to imagine Ren exercising so much premediation, and yet there’s something very Ren about the whole situation.

“Not exactly,” Ren replies, suddenly bashful.

“Please don’t tell me you knit them yourself.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Hux realizes with blinding clarity that this is exactly the case.

“Ugh,” Ren says, confirming Hux’s suspicion.

“I’m still not wearing mine,” Hux blurts, then adds, almost apologetically, “I didn’t pack it.”

Ren brightens. “I did.” He throws the bag at Hux, and indeed, the green abomination is in there.

Hux had come to this planet wearing his uniform, for lack of other clothing in his wardrobe, and he’d very much prefer that to remain the case, but he’s finding it hard to say no to Ren when Ren is looking at him like that. He only hopes Ren’s absolutely disgusting and deplorably irresistible puppy eyes aren’t some kind of Force trick.

What does it matter, though. He’s going to do what Ren asks anyway.

Sometimes, more often than Hux cares to admit, Ren has this effect on him.

He changes into the sweater, noting how the occasional crookedness of the needlework makes him feel endeared instead of frustrated, now that he knows it had been made by Ren’s hands. He still thinks it’s ludicrous; it’s just Ren’s own brand of ludicrous, which Hux, apparently, quite enjoys.

Ren walks up to him, then drops onto the furry rug on the floor and stretches his hand toward Hux. “Come here.”

Hux lets himself be tugged down and rolled around until he’s lying on top of Ren, Ren’s hands on the small of his back. Hux’s headache evaporates completely, replaced by the gentle buzz of affection he usually feels when he and Ren have time to goof around like this.

Which, he realizes sadly, is not often enough.

“We match,” Ren says blissfully, touching the tip of his nose to Hux’s.

Hux settles his hands on Ren’s chest, smoothing them over the soft fabric of Ren’s sweater. “When did you even learn how to knit?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“It’s a useful exercise,” Ren replies, his fingers massaging Hux’s back just above the waistband of his trousers. “Like meditation.”

“I thought you hated meditation.” Sitting still never worked for Ren, who was always boiling with extra energy, a restless spirit refusing to be confined. Hux likes that about him, more so when this spirit submits to his—Hux’s—wishes.

“I like knitting,” Ren says simply, gliding his warm hands under Hux’s sweater. Hux can’t help but moan at the contact, curving his back and rolling his hips into Ren’s hips underneath him.

Ren lifts his head slightly, catching Hux’s lips with his own. They kiss slowly, almost chastely, just a hint of tongues lapping at each other’s lips, noses brushing against each other. Hux puts his hands on Ren’s shoulders, stroking down his arms, over the snowflake designs on Ren’s sleeves.

They’re interrupted by a knock on the door.

“That would be room service,” Ren says, breaking the kiss and rolling Hux onto his back. He pecks Hux lightly on the nose before standing up and going to get the door.

“You ordered food?” Hux asks, surprised again by Ren’s uncharacteristic foresight. He has really gone all out with this leave.

Hux wonders, with a spike of guilt, how long Ren has been wanting to do something like this.

Instead of answering, Ren ushers in the service droid, which lays a number of dishes on the dining table. It’s a real feast, and Hux hears his stomach growl at the sight. There’s a selection of salads, a few plates of tiny canapés, and the crown of the meal, a huge round bowl of bantha surprise, spreading a delicious scent of spices all over the room. A bottle of sparkling wine is resting in an ice bucket, surrounded by plates with cheeses and small cube-shaped sweets.

“Happy Galaxy Day,” the droid chirps before leaving them alone with the food.

The smells wafting from the table are fascinating, and Hux sits himself down a little bit more hurriedly than might be proper. He doesn’t care and neither does Ren, from the look of him.

“How did you know about this planet, anyway?” Hux asks, ladling the bantha surprise onto his plate.

“One of the Knights told me.” Ren tries each of the salads in turn before settling on one and taking the entire dish for himself. “When the Empire banned Life Day, people still needed something to celebrate. People on Exmis thought they could just rename the holiday and make a tourist hot spot out of their planet. They weren’t wrong.”

Hux chews on the tender bantha meat, thinking. “Why haven’t I heard about it?”

“Are you in the habit of researching tourist spots in the galaxy?”

“No, I guess I’m not.” Hux picks one of the canapés and puts it into his mouth. It’s a little bite of perfection. “Thank you for bringing me here,” he says, letting fondness trickle into his voice. He owes Ren this much.

“My pleasure,” Ren chuckles, reaching for the wine bottle and popping it open. He pours the wine for them both and raises his glass for a toast. “To taking leave,” he says, eyes twinkling.

It’s the happiest Hux has ever seen Ren. “To taking leave,” he agrees, clinking their glasses together.

The wine is just the right amount of sweet and slides down his throat easily.

When they’re done gorging on the fancy food, Ren lights the fireplace and beckons for Hux to join him on the couch. Hux settles between Ren’s knees, his back snug against Ren’s chest, their hands coming to join in a circle on Hux’s stomach. It’s cozy, like nothing in Hux’s experience.

Ren has cracked one of the windows open slightly to let in the cheerful singing from the street. The cool air is offset by the heat from the fireplace, and Hux relaxes into the comfort. At some point, fireworks start blooming in the night sky, a fantastic spectacle that makes Hux feel like a little kid, enraptured by the colorful shapes in the dark.

It’s not an unpleasant feeling.

Ren drops his head onto Hux’s shoulder, nuzzling the crook of his neck. He places a soft kiss to the pulse point beneath Hux’s ear.

“I haven’t gotten you anything,” Hux realizes, regretfully, as he reaches backwards to pet Ren’s hair. Somehow, it feels like a terrible offense, even though he didn’t know about this trip until he was here.

Ren hums, nibbling at Hux’s earlobe. “You know what I want.”

Hux does, and it strikes him again, how little Ren really wants from him and how hard it is for Hux to give it. To admit vulnerability, to show weakness, to lay himself bare in front of anyone, least of all this dangerous creature.

Except Ren isn’t dangerous, not to Hux, and Hux should know it, should have learned it by now. It still amazes him, and he barely finds enough strength to trust it.

Ren has arranged this entire getaway for Hux, and all he wants in return is just a few little words. Surely he deserves it. Surely Hux can give him that much.

Hux lifts one of Ren’s hands to his mouth and kisses his knuckles. “I love you, Ren,” he says and is glad when his voice doesn’t tremble.

He feels a shiver go through Ren as he sighs happily against Hux’s temple.

“I love you too, Hux.”

The room is so warm around them that Hux starts to think they should lose the sweaters. Maybe even get naked entirely. Check out the supposedly best bedroom in the entire hotel on this miraculous planet.

He slides off the couch, tugging Ren towards the door to the bedroom, and Ren follows, his eyes shining and his smile brighter than the largest sun in the galaxy.

When they return to the _Finalizer_ , Hux is delighted to see that nothing has broken down irreparably, although he does have a couple hundred urgent messages awaiting his attention. The First Order had managed to survive two days without its General, but just barely. It soothes Hux’s pride, to feel so irreplaceable.

At the same time, he thinks that he and Ren should do something like that again. Maybe next year.

Or maybe, just maybe, a little bit sooner than that.

For now, he settles on finding Ren’s birthday on the calendar and clearing the entire evening on the day. The date leaves him about a month to prepare. He’s thinking a candlelit dinner with real food, made by human hands, not some bland droid fare, a bottle of fine emerald wine, and a heartfelt confession of the feelings he can’t find it in himself to deny.

Yes, Ren would probably love that.

Hux stands on the bridge, hands clasped behind his back, and he can’t hide a smirk that overtakes his face as he thinks about how pleased Ren will be, how thoroughly ecstatic Hux will make him feel, how they will find an opportunity to be happy together, even as they wage a war against the rest of the world.

It’s going to be wonderful.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is [retweetable](https://twitter.com/need_more_meta/status/1358102264687296512) and [rebloggable](https://need-more-meta.tumblr.com/post/642390934434332672/what-a-wonderful-world-needmoremeta-star)!
> 
> If you see something you like, let me know! I'd love to hear what you think. :3
> 
> Come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/need_more_meta) and/or [Tumblr](https://need-more-meta.tumblr.com/)! <3


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